Heaven Help the Dead
by silas-the-fangirl
Summary: A tale of trust, friendship and endurance. A warlord is raising havoc across the waters, can Halt stop him before it get to his beloved country's shores? And what does Will have to do with this, he died years ago... right?
1. Chapter 1

Eight years previously, at the Skandian Battle.

The trees where close and thick, but there was no cover, the Temujai where closing in on Will, Horace, Evanlyn and their small force of what was left of the archers. It had now come down to hand-to-hand fighting, and unfortunately there was no convenient cliff, but a mess of bodies, blood and swords.

"Keep Evanlyn safe at all costs!" yelled Will.

"No, we protect each other!" replied the girl.

Will pulled her out of the way on an oncoming arrow, it missed her by an inch. Will pulled her ear to his lips so she could hear over the sounds of war,

"No. You remember our conversation on Skorghijl." It wasn't a question, it was a statement. He pulled them out of the way of more arrows and slammed her into a tree, his back to the oncoming army. A risk, but he needed to force the point home.

"You are more valuable and important to our country. That's what we are fighting for. For you to be Queen, so you can keep others safe. OK."

His deep brown eyes never faltered, they bore into hers, forcing her to nod in agreement, but that didn't mean that she couldn't fight now. Horace pulled them from this with a yell, there was only about ten of their archers left, and about thirty of theirs. They would surly die. Fortunate Halt and Erak came from the main clump of their army to help. Halt had five down even before they had reached the force that where attacking Will.

He had seen the last few seconds of Wills encounter with Evanlyn, then he turned around and in a fluid movement, had his saxe out of its leather casing and in an enermies gut. The knife had quickly been removed from one corpse and put into another one, then a second and third. He turned to face Halt, though Halt was ten meters away, he could see into the boy's eyes and could see that he was a changed man.

Will had observed that the enemy was starting to retreat, but on leaving they where still fighting, firing volleys of arrows as they ran. As the last of them filtered through the narrow spaces in the trees Halt walked up to Will and placed a comforting had on his shoulder, the boy had done a good job, and he was in shock. It was to be expected, this was his first taste of real war, his first one where he wasn't dragged of to another country, another continent.

"Good job Will, you commanded the archers well." The boy was still in shock and had yet to blink, but Halt could see the shock drip from his eyes and tears started to well in the brown depths. Halt pulled Will into a tight hug and motioned for his two friends to go, they obeyed.

Five minutes later all ruminants of the small force had melted away and Will began to cry. More minutes past and a sharp thud alerted Halt to the fact that Wills small body had now needed full support of Halt. He opened his eyes and saw the arrow buried in to boy's back. Tears flooded Halts eyes, he slowly let his friends body slump onto the ground. He took up Will's small bow and two arrows from the dirt covered quiver and waited. His grief spent time was rewarded, a movement. He sent one arrow after the cold-blooded murderer. The first took away the monsters life, but Halt wasn't satisfied until the second arrow was firmly planted an inch away from the killing shot, dead centre in the mans chest.

Halt ran back to where he had left Will, he dropped the bow and pushed through the small crowd that had crowded around the boy. He saw Horaces face, stone cold and his muscled arms where wrapped around Evanlyn, her face buried in Horaces cheat, crying for her lost friend. A small pain filled mumble broke the otherwise grief swamped noise, it came from the small body on the ground.

A healer had removed the arrow from Will's shoulder and was making a concoction in a small bowl. He mixed some ground green leaves and water together. The leaves releasing a yellowy substance that coloured the water.

"What are you giving him?" Halt asked. The healer looked up and regarded the short man.

"A substance designed to lower the heart rate, numb the body and mind to make ... passing easier."

"HE'S NOT PASSING ANYWHERE!" Halt replied. The small mumble came again and Halt dropped onto his knees and placed an ear over Wills lips so he could hear him. His voice was low, painful and barely understandable.

"Please Halt ... I'm too put a face to the man got me through my childhood. Don't ... don't take it away from me. Don't forget me, and goodbye, Father."

"Give it to me." His hand was held out for the bowl, when he received no response, he hit the healer and took the bowl from his hands and said,

"I won't deny you this. I won't forget you Will. You are my son." With that, Halt poured some of the mixture down his Will's throat. The yellow substance was mixed with Halts falling tears. When the liquid was gone, he picked up Will's body and carried him to his horse on the hill which he, Erak and Ragnak had watched the Temujai battle the Skandians. But neither his companions where there. Halt got up onto his horse to go back to Hallasholm, all the while holding Will's body close to his heart.


	2. Chapter 2

**So like, dont read it if you dont wanna. im not making you.**

Will's body lay on a raised platform in a small boat. Pine needles and pine branches where placed under and around the platform. Will lay still, not a twitch. Still Halt hoped. The boy had a way of getting himself out of every tight spot, cheating life its self, Halt thought, but now the young man, the man he thought like a son to him, was lying still. His eyes never to be bright again.

Erak came up behind him and put his hand on his shoulder, Horace and Evanlyn followed shortly after Erak. Horace put his hand on Halts other shoulder, comforting the older man in his time of grief. All four of them took this hard. Halt hadn't talked to anyone since he had brought Will back to Hallashlom and had then resorted to drinking heavily like a mad man.

Horace had sat outside the Main Hall of Hallashlom and watched people pass him. Bodies, covered in a thin white sheet stared to come from where the battle had taken place, the lost souls followed by mourners. Wife's. Sons. Daughters. Mothers and all followed there fallen family members.

Evanlyn had pushed Horace away as soon as they got back to the lodges, she had fan to the room she was staying in. She fell onto the the fur skin draped bed and cried. Will had done what he said he would, he had protected her with all costs and risked his life many times over for hers, and in the end it had killed him. He gave his life to protect the ones he loved. But it wasn't her, it was Halt. Will never loved her, and now he never would.

Erak had barely know the scruffy youth. He found him at a bridge, strong looking, he thought, he would fetch a pretty penny. Then he had kidnapped the boy, taken him to a foreign place, forced him into slavery, which lead him to his addiction to warmweed, which nearly killed him. But all the while, he got to know the boy. He was small, courageous, smart and stupid. Who didn't know what tides where? Will was a good shot and excellent with his knives, he respected him for that. To Erak, Will was a true Skandian.

Evening was drawing to a close, the traditional time to push the boat out to sea, and say goodbye to their fellow country men. To their fathers, brothers and sons. The pine and special oils used to keep the bodies from decaying, the scents mixed together making a horrid sweet sickening smell.

Boats where set alight the time the sun disappeared behind the horizon, a loud horn was sounded in the back ground. It made the four friends jump. They stood at the edge of the beach, looking out over the crashing, rolling waves. Every now and then, they could see a distant flickering yellow light in the sea. The strong smell of smoke was remade when Erak lit Ragnak's boat alight. With the help of a few Jarls, Erak pushed the boat out to sea. Out to be with his son, and for-fathers.

"Its time to say goodbye Halt."

"I know," Erak held up the touch and was about to light up the boat hen Halt put out his arm to stop him.

"I can't think of his body all black and burnt. No fire."Erak nodded and threw the touch head first into the sea. It made a fizzing sound as the water killed the fire. He helped Halt and Horace push the vessel out to sea. Halt said a few words.

"Will was special to us all. But mostly to me. No one else but Baron Arald knew this, but now you all father saved my life at the end of the war. Wargals where attacking and and he saved me by giving his own life. He only asked one thing from me, look after his wife and child. It was to late to save Wills mother, but I gave the boy to Redmont as a ward, so I could watch over him. And I did, I did for the last sixteen or seventeen years." Halts voice started to crack, so Horace took over.

"Will was my best friend." He shrugged

"What else can I say, I'll miss him every day of my life and I'm sorry I was a real ... Well I was a bastard to him growing up, but he was like my brother." Evanlyn was to grief stricken to say anything and Erak was nodding along, agreeing with everything, holding Evanlyn.

Wills boat dipped below the oceans line and was lost from sight.

"Lets go home." Halt said as he turned to go back to Hallashlom.


	3. Chapter 3

**So hey, I finally got over my 'writers block' (AKA: too lazy) and decided to write the next installment of the wonders that go on inside my brain. Who ever thought this story was over, shame on you (cyber slap on the wrist). So also. I kind want start to find a name for this story. But I'm having a creative meltdown, and that doesn't happen too often. So, PM or review me some names. Who ever name I pick can have a nice little shout out. So here is my next chappy . . . Enjoy.**

Eight Years Later.

The broken man slammed the ale mug down on the table, he could hear someone approaching his small cabin in the thick forest. He had heard his horse a few minutes before, calling out a small nay to the unknown persons horse. The strangers horse nickered back. That narrowed it down to fifty-two people; Horace, someone from the Corps or Old Bob. Its wasn't the latter. Fifty-one. It wasn't Horace, he had just left last week, and not without saying goodbye to his old friend. What ever could the Corps want now? Couldn't they just leave him alone to mourn? Answer . . . No. They felt the need to check on him every now and them.

"Damn them." He swore quietly. Maybe if he was quiet, they would leave. Halt listened further as the verandah gave way to the mans weight, telling him or sure that it wasn't a woman. The third step didn't creak, so it wasn't Gillian.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Silence. Knock.

Only one idiot knocked on a door like that.

"Open to damn door Halt."

"No, go away Crowley."

"We need to talk."

"No we don't." Halt replied, his voice more angry by every syllable he spat out in the general direction of the door, he was too wasted to tell the difference now.

"Horace came to see me, said you went . . . Well."

"Course I'm not 'well'."

"That's why I'm sending you to do some sleuthing (AN: I love this word) in Sonderland. We've had a report saying that they might be planning a war, heaven knows why."

"Send someone else."

"I want the best on this, we can't afford a war right now."

"Pity you made your long journey in vein. The best doesn't live here anymore."

"Halt . . . Please open to door."

"Why?"

"Because . . . Ah . . . I'm dieing, and I want to see my old friend once more." Halt couldn't say no to this, if it was one of his dieing wishes. Halt walked over and undid the latch, opened the deadbolt and slowly opened the door to the world. Crowley shoved the door open and went in, laughing as he went.

"I . . . I can't believe . . . You, you of all people believed that rott."

"Your not dieing." Halt replied to his chuckling friend. Crowley shook his head rapidly.

"Right, get out." Crowley shook his head again.

"No can do Halt."

"Fine, I'll leave."

"No, please Halt. Your country needs you. At least listen to the mission, then make your decision?" Halt looked to the door, then to Crowley, then back to the door, then to the cabinet he kept his ale in.

"Fine, but I don't have to like listening." The commander smiled. He sat down and beckoned Halt over who took a seat opposite Crowley.

"Okay, lets get to business." He rubbed his hands together. Crowley took out some papers and diagrams.

"So the git who is causing the trouble only recently popped up. But all we know about this Warlord is that he is big, power hungry, strong and has the brains of eight men. He also leaves a trail of destruction in his path. Currently, or from what contacts tell us he is going toward Gallica, and as you know, it won't take long to over rule them. Regnar is what he goes by. Your mission is to find out what he is up to, and hopefully stop it. He is a major threat to our lands, to our homes. To King Duncan and his daughter. Will you do Halt. Will you protect this country from the evil and protect its future?" Halt was deep in thought, he could run away and never come back, or, on the other hand he could go and do this and regain the trust that he had lost in his friends, colleagues and mostly in himself. Halt slowly started to move his head. But in the wrong way.

"Can't do it Crowley."

"Why?"

"I will fail."

"No you won't, Gilan will go with you. That's all you need. Please Halt."

"I'll go if Horace can come too."

"Its a small price to pay."

"So that's a 'yes'?"

"Yes."

"Okay then. I suppose I'll do it. If I am really the best you could think of, the Corps have gone down hill."

**So, what did you think. Review. And remember, I want find a name for my story.**


	4. Chapter 4

**Well there was like no enthusiasm for my last chapter. So, same deal as last time, I need a name for my story cause 'this story doesn't have a name' is kind of getting old real fast. So here is my next chappy, REVIEW. Please. Also, remember I want to find a name for this story real soon. I was thinking . . . 'Quest of a Lost Life.' Tell me what you think.**

The ride to Araluen Castle was uneventful. The crisp winter air hurt Halts ears as he rode with Gilan to the castle to get Horace so they could set of, or as Halt tended to think of it as going and getting things done then getting back to his beloved bottle and cottage where people would leave him alone with his dark personality.

"Come on Halt, cheer up."

"No." Gilan swived in his saddle to look at what was left of his friend.

"You're not much of a 'Glass half full' person these days, are you?"

"No."

"Halt, is there another griping word you could use?" Halt turned his head slightly at his younger friend.

"No."

"Okay then. I'll drop it"

"Good."

"There, I knew you had it in you, Halt." Halt rode ahead mumbling something about youngsters, respect and pranks. Gilan shrugged. It was now his personal mission to bring Halt back to life. And he had months in which to do so, and he knew for sure that Horace would want to get in on it. Gilan knew that the loss of Will had affected them all.

The castle was beautiful at midday, the walls where bathed in pale light, the smell of fresh breads and pies came down from the kitchen and greeted the two travellers. Horace was at the gates waiting for his friends to finish their way up the road. Halt took one look at him and yelled.

"Get your ass on a bloody horse and let's go." Horace just grinned and shook his head in reply.

"No can do Halt, Duncan want to see us all."

"Bugger."

"Be nice kitty." Halt looked at Gilan and gave him a death glare.

"Hurry up!" Horace yelled.

"Since when are you his best friend?" Halt asked Horace. Horace knew better than to start something with Halt when he was in this mood.

"Since he invited us for lunch, and I am starved"

"You're always hungry." Halt said absent minded

"True, but I'm still a growing boy." replied Horace, barely holding his straight face. The three friends walked slowly towards the dining room King Duncan used for private and family meals. Duncan looked at Halt as he walked through the massive wooden doors, Gilan to his left and Horace to his right. The man was a walking mess. His hair more shaggy and oily than usual, he had no weight on his body and his skin was white, you could see the faint outline of the bones resting against his pale exterior. It saddened Duncan to know that his long time friend suffered.

"Hello Halt, Gilan. How was your trip so far?" Halt was about to remark that it had been bloody awful. It had rained the whole time making their camps cold and desolate; there hadn't even been a bed of cooling coals to sleep by. The stars where covered with thick merciless clouds and in the morning, the frost bit into any piece of flesh that was exposed. But Gilan got his big gob in first.

"It was . . . Delightful, my lord." Gilan said, Halt snorted.

"Good, come eat. We have much to discuss and you must be on your way as soon as possible."

"Of course." Gilan replied. They all sat down and feasted on fresh crusty bread, roasted lamb and freshly picked roasted vegetables, not to mention the superb gravy. They idly chatted over the most mundane things. It wasn't until King Duncan approached the subject of their upcoming task.

"I just want to say . . . I, no, the kingdom needs you. All of you. "

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Gilan replied. Halt was still brooding over the fact that Horace had discreetly pulled the bottle of ale away from him, also giving him a meaningful glare then drawing Halts eyes with his own, his gaze landed on the King who was talking to Gilan about his father.

"This is a grave threat to our lands. I want you to o and kill the bastard, breakup his army and report back as soon as possible. Understood?"

"Yes Sir." all three replied.

**So that's it, I'm to lazy to write anymore, since I only go like two reviews for my last chapter anyway. So I'll update later. Have fun my minions. **

**Here is today's inspirational quote:**

_**"So many people treat you like you're a kid so you might as well act like one and throw your television out of the hotel window." **_

**~ Gerard Way.**


	5. Chapter 5

**So, have you missed me? Sorry for not updating in awhile, but is everyone all hyped about the next book, it's apparently Horace centric!**

Crossing the Narrow Sea was at best, horrid. The old Ranger was at the port side, lying over the railing, throwing up anything he put down. The Knight was making jokes between Halts need to empty every scrap of meat, bread and dried fruit that he had managed to keep down of his stomach for a small while. Halt hadn't found this entertaining and was shooting death glares between Horace and his old Apprentice who was also enjoying the banter between the old friends.

"Halt, would you like a bucket?" Horace had asked in a patronising tone of mock concern.

"I'd like to kill you. That is what I would like."

"Sorry Halt, not on today's menu." Gilan put in, he was sitting on a pile of sacks sharpening his sword. He and Horace shared a small grin as Halt swung his head around to the railing and threw up some more of his small light lunch. It almost felt like old times. Almost.

Gilan felt sorry for his former master, his weak sea stomach was Halts one downfall, so he took pity on him. But not too much, it was still hilarious to watch.

"Halt, how are we even meant to reach Sonderland?"

"We are crossing the Narrow Sea, and then when we get to La Rivage we'll start to head up north and pray when we reach the end of the country we can find a small fishing community to take us over the entrance to the Stormwhite Sea."

"So Horace, up for some practice?" Gilan asked, dragging the attention from the seas sick man with head over the railing.

"I'm a professional now. I don't need to practice as much." Horace replied. Gilan had a sly look about him; he quickly swished his sword causing Horace to jump in the air with a high scream. Horace's confidant smile was crushed by Gilan's actions and his broken smile was replaced by a look of pure disheartened distaste.

"Can't we ever just enjoy our adventure? Why can't we ever just relax? I mean, here we are, on a nice sail boat, we have good food and we don't have to worry about being attacked for a while. Being rocked to sleep by the gentle waves would be nice."

Two things came about Horace's last statement, Halt lunged to the railing again on the word 'food', Gilan replied, "How do you know that we won't be attacked, the captain and his crew could jump out at any time and take us hostage, or kill us or something else terrible!"

Horace looked over to the captain; he had only taken them on his ship because of the pretty shiny coins spilled before his eyes, besides, Horace thought, he is just skin and bones. Which was true, so where his crew.

Gilan followed his line of sight, and realised that his suggestion was weak and Horace would probably point it out. "You never know, young Horace. It could happen." Gilan closed his eyes and rested back against the sacks. He felt a kick at his boot. His eyes slowly opened and he looked up to the tall figure of Horace, the sun framing him.

Horace pulled the ranger to his feet and took him to the other side of the boat. "Gilan, I'm worried about him. Don't know he will take being so close... to where it all happened." Horace waved his hand in the general direction of Skandia.

"Gilan looked into the younger mans eyes. "I worry for him too."

"Land ahead" The first mate cried. The two men looked up to see the thin line on the horizon that marked Gallica.

**So that's the next chapter. I'm so sorry that I haven't updated, for like a year, but I was looking through my computer files and I stumbled across my Rangers fic, I read the third chapter, just for kicks, and my love was re-kindled!**


	6. Chapter 6

**Hey everyone, thanks for the support on the last chapter, it means so much to me. Also, thanks for, like, not killing me 'cause it was like a year ago that I last updated it. So in this tale we are up to where Halt, Horace and good ol' Gil are making their way towards the oncoming trouble! **

As they disembarked the boat Halt let out a sigh of relief, it felt good to have solid ground beneath his feet. The last hours of the boat ride had been far worse than the beginning of the trip; the winds had increased and with that, the size of the waves. They had crashed over the railings convincing Halt and his two companions that they would die.

The port was exactly as Horace remembered it, small and large boats alike crowded into the large port, rocking harshly on the waves, seagulls still soared overhead, wanting what scraps they could find from offering men cleaning that days catch, the heavy rain was no worry for them. However, the rain had driven the men who repaired he boats for a living to their warm homes shrouded in the exciting exotic scents that both thrilled and seduced the senses. But still there was the constant buzz of the ports lesser inhabitants that begged for a spare coin from whoever passed by them.

Gilan had finished paying the boat master and they were on their way. They twisted and turn throughout the town's streets and alleys until Horace was convinced they had been in circles. But, from previous experience he knew that the expanse of the ever oncoming streets would end and eventually give way to a cross road. The first time he and Halt had travelled here, they had turned left, veering into the centre of the country, however this time, they continued straight ahead.

The ride was quiet, for one, the two younger men had no idea how to interact with the grizzled ranger anymore, but mainly because of the sullen weather. The closer they approached the Stormwhite Sea, the heavier the rain became until it gave way to a full fledge storm. The constant flashes of light and the skies groans that accompanied the light show soon spooked the horses, forcing them to take refugee from the violence of the storm in a small run down barn.

They soon unpacked their horses and bedded them down for the night. Not unlike the ride, the impromptu camp was also quiet, the mood of the weary travellers matching the gale outside. They ate a simply meal of cold meat and tough bread, topped with dried fruit and washed down with the pleasant flavour of water that had been in a water skin bag for two long.

With no warm fire and no warm group enthusiasm, the group was as interesting as a cricket; in fact they could hear one chirruping in the hay that smelled of mould from the water that leaked through the roof, the cricket making the awkward silence more noticeable. One young ranger tried to change the atmosphere with a riveting conversation about the mission, his plan had a less than effective outcome.

"How long before we reach the Stormwhite?" Gilan asked his former teacher.

"A few days at least." Halt replied, "Goodnight." He got up, stretched and walked over to his horse, tempted by the warmth Abelard would bring.

"Don't you want first watch?" Horace asked. Halt had always had first watch; Halt liked to sleep the entire night through after his three hour watch. Halt looked at the boy in surprise.

"Why bother, no one will be out in weather like this." To illustrate his point, water leaked through the roof and landed on Horace's head. Halt continued to move towards his horse, missing the look that passed between Horace and Gilan.

Halt had always demanded someone be on watch, _'you never know when someone's behind you, watching your every move' _he would always say. So there had always been a watch, no matter the circumstances, rain or clear stary night. But Halt had become lazy since 'The Incident' as they called it, and this worried Gilan most of all. A ranger who didn't do the work and who didn't look out for every possible threat was just a useless as a getting Horace to shut up about the current accommodations.

"I will never get to sleep in this place." Horace complained.

Case and point, Gilan thought. Case and point.

**So it's not long and it's not great. But hey, I'm and amateur. So how was this chapter? There was less character involvement, yes, but I'm trying to move the story along. But you have to admit, there was a lot more describing. That's a plus, right? So review if you want, free... world? (Much cooler if you say free country.) BTW, if I get lots of reviews, I may be persuaded to give a first look at the great Warlord! **


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